Would have loved to experience the golden age of the zeppelin back in the 1920s and 30s. Modern day blimps offer only a sense of what it must have been like to witness one of these behemoths flying overhead. Nowadays there's simply no aircraft that can compare size-wise to something nearly as long as a football field. That's just one of those weird connections I make when I come across a cloud formation such as this jaw-dropper. I just happened to be driving near this small inland lake near sunset when this massive cloud formation came into view. I jumped out of the car and walked right up to the water's edge. Icy wind blasted me right in the face as it flowed unobstructed over the open water. So much so that it was difficult to breathe, the air being pushed back into my lungs as I exhaled. Meanwhile the massive formation lumbered silently overhead. It stretched back for at least a half mile, perhaps more. Have always loved the dark tones of evening clouds. Not sure what causes this, probably a lack of reflected light from the ground. It gives the clouds a tremendous sense of depth and structure. The formation twisted and undulated as clouds do, constantly changing shape which altered the light and shadow. As I shot photos I imagined a giant Zeppelin passing low over the black water and how it might feel in those last moments before the shadow overtook me. The effect lasted just a few minutes. The illusion vanished abruptly as the sun angle decreased. And suddenly I was just a guy standing by the edge of a lake with freezing cold fingers. But for a moment it was so real.

Oskar Graf classical guitar. Detail of the rosewood bridge and recently replaced saddle. This picture brings into view some dings and dents in the table that may have been produced by pliers/snips during string changes.